


Quest for Answers

by Tarlan



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Autopsies, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A killer wants to ensure no one learns the secret of his victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quest for Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Dr. Nicholas J. Elder is a Deputy Coroner. Decomposing bodies mentioned--might gross out some people! Foul language.  
> Written for **smallfandomfest** FEST07

It was a body the killer never expected to be found, taken far from the lake shore, weighted down and dumped. As the weeks passed, the killer had probably sighed in relief and went back to his or her life, confident that he or she had managed to get away with murder. Until now...

"Huh!"

"Nickie?" Peter hated it when that was all Nickie said.

"Judging by the level of decomposition, I would put the estimated time of death around seventeen to twenty days ago." Nickie huffed. "And she was probably a go-go dancer."

"Go-go dancer?"

"Mini skirts and thigh-high boots." Nickie gave that sweet, manic smile while everyone else tried to hold onto their lunch. He lifted up one of the decomposing boots as an example and a putrid slime that was probably partially decomposing body slopped out. The uniformed officer behind Peter started to gag and made a run for it. Hearing the man throw up was almost the end of Peter too and he swallowed hard against the bile rising into his throat. Instead he pressed the back of his hand tighter against his mouth and nose.

"How do you do it?" he muttered around his hand.

"Huh?"

"How do you...?" Peter waved at the corpse and then at Officer Geralt who was looking pale, standing with hands braced on his knees several feet away at the edge of the wood.

Nickie looked genuinely confused until, finally he made the connection between the two. "Oh! Used to the smell, I guess." He looked up at his assistants. "Okay, let's bag her up and take her in."

"Cause of death?"

Nickie rose to his feet beside Peter, accepting a steadying hand. "Too early to tell."

Peter let his hand linger at Nickie's elbow, guiding him back a few steps to allow Nickie's assistants to complete their unpleasant task. Peter was relieved when they finally zipped up the body bag, masking the odor. It had taken all morning to bring the body up and they had gathered quite the crowd of onlookers and even a media crew.

"Call me when you find something," he asked, "In fact, call me even if you don't. Kermit's celebrating tonight."

"Really?"

He was rewarded by Nickie's crooked smile once more before the deputy coroner turned away to follow his latest body back to the Coroner's Office. Peter watched him go, smiling as Nickie almost tripped because he was already writing up the initial report even as he walked to his car. It was good to see Nickie back from his vacation, though Peter was glad Nickie had shaved off the ridiculous beard and changed out of the ghastly Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Neither had suited the man but Peter had avoided commenting at the time as, selfishly, he had not wanted Nickie to attract any company while on Hawaii. He knew he ought to feel guilty at wanting to see his friend bomb out romantically but Peter had discovered a lot of things about himself since being reunited with his father. He had embraced part of his Shaolin heritage but had rebelled against other more personal revelations, such as having a greater interest in men than in women, or at least in one man--Nickie. The San Francisco Police Department was better than some other forces but there was still an element of prejudice within its ranks even though homosexuality had been decriminalized back in 1969. But the main problem was that Nickie spoke only of women he would like to date, and Peter did not want to risk losing their friendship by revealing exactly how he felt about his friend.

Once Nickie had driven off, following the coroner's vehicle, Peter ignored the news reporter who had given up on Nickie and was now angling back towards him. Instead he stared out across the wide lake to where Police divers were still dredging the bottom around where the early-morning fisherman had hooked up the body. After that many weeks in the water the chances of finding any damning evidence that could lead them to a potential killer was remote. He knew it would be up to Nickie to piece together enough clues from the body to allow them to fully identify the woman. Until then, Peter had his own role to play, already wondering how many women had been reported missing over the past few weeks, if anyone had even noticed her missing. Hopefully, Nickie would at least be able to narrow down the field to race and age, perhaps hair color too. Then it would be down to DNA.

He did wonder if Nickie was almost right about the type of woman they had found. Certainly the clothing would have been considered provocative though a bit sleazy too. He'd seen plenty of women dressed in that fashion even in mid-winter, and they usually hung around street corners waiting for someone to offer them money in exchange for sex. Yes, she was most likely a prostitute who had picked up the wrong John that day. Most of the regular hookers were on the system having been brought in for prostitution on one or more occasions but, every day, new girls came into the city looking to escape life in a small town only to end up turning tricks in some back street. Peter had often wondered why they never went home but he suspected for some it was shame that kept them in the city but for others, even prostitution was still a step up from what they had left behind.

He wondered how many other bodies had been dumped into the lake over the years. It might be the smallest of the local lakes but it was still fairly large in size with an average depth of over 120 feet. They had found the body in 60 feet of water, within sight of the shore. Few went swimming in the lake because of the water pollution, though the government had started another major clean-up operation recently that would take a number of years to complete, so the chances of discovery had been slim.

This part of the lake shore was seldom visited, dotted instead by small fishing jetties so Peter figured that was as good a place to start as any. While he was waiting on some information from Nickie, he could ask around and see if anyone could recall anything out of the ordinary a few weeks back.

***

Nickie was never quite sure what had made him look to the Coroner's office for a career. He had come out of medical school with excellent results and had been offered several positions following his internship as a junior doctor but nothing had appealed until the day he was caught in the tailback from a multiple car crash. As a doctor, he had raced forward to help the injured but as the last living casualty was loaded onto a gurney and taken away in an ambulance, he had found himself studying the dead, looking for answers from them to explain the carnage. Four deaths in total out of the six cars involved, three of them drivers. A police forensics team had started photographing the scene--the skid marks, the damage to road and car but no one paid as much mind to the bodies beyond basic photos. When the Coroner had arrived, Nickie had just tagged along, intrigued.

"Huh! That's strange. Petechiae around the conjunctiva is usually a sign of asphyxiation. May I?"

Nickie had raised the head and found ligature marks around the man's throat, starting an investigation that saw the man's injured son imprisoned for the murder. The Coroner, Doctor Carstairs, had nodded his head in approval and offered him a residency on the spot as a Deputy Coroner, and Nickie was still confused over why he had said yes when he had already been offered far more lucrative and higher paying positions elsewhere. That was five years ago, so he had almost completed his residency now, but he had yet to regret the work itself, only the job title and the smell of death that lingered around him, putting off potential partners.

Being a pathologist was lonely...and he missed sex.

Hawaii had been beautiful. Hot sands and blue skies, drinks with those little tiny umbrellas on the beach, long days simply lying in the shade to avoid turning into a lobster. He had fair skin. Hawaii had clubs full of people who looked beautiful mostly because they were having fun but Nickie seemed to have forgotten how to look at exposed skin without a pathologist's critical eye. He saw the darkening bruises of those enjoying water and beach sports, the soreness of those who had stayed out too long in the sun. He saw the dark circles of dehydration and fatigue under the eyes of drunken party-goers who were determined to party all night and sleep all day at any expense.

On the second day he saw someone who looked like Peter from a distance and raced after him, all excited to see his friend in Hawaii of all places, and felt embarrassed when the stranger turned and told him he _wasn't interested in faggots_.

Nickie had never considered men before that moment and instead of shocking him with its vulgarity, it had snapped his eyes open in a far different way. He shaved off the beard that night and had spent the next day looking at all the bodies so carelessly displayed half naked on the beach and around the pool. In another revelation, he realized that he felt the same stir of attraction to both male and female alike...especially if they were dark haired and blue eyed. Like the serial killers that put bodies on his autopsy table, Nickie discovered that he had a type, and Peter fitted it perfectly, except thoughts of Peter caused more than just a stir of interest.

It took every ounce of his self control not to blurt out his discovery when he saw Peter by the lake shore back in San Francisco. Fortunately, he had a decomposing body to distract him but he had almost tripped over his own feet as he made his way back to his car, still feeling the warmth of Peter's hand upon him.

"Nickie?"

"Hey, Jack."

Jack Carstairs wrinkled up his nose as the body bag was lifted onto the autopsy table. "Floater?"

"Hmm. Would have been if not weighted down."

Jack rested a hand on Nickie's shoulder. "I'll leave you to it."

Nickie gave his thanks to the assistants and wasn't surprised when they rushed away. No one particularly liked handling the more decomposed bodies. Nickie took a last deep breath of fresh air before putting on his protective mask and unzipping the bag. Hours later, he was over halfway through the autopsy when he sensed another presence in the room. Thinking it was Jack, Nickie turned to greet him and announce his presence on the autopsy tape that was running. His greeting stuck in his throat when he came face-to-face with a stranger.

"Um...this is a restricted area."

"It's unfortunate you found her."

"I'm...sorry?"

"Mary Louise." He sighed and pulled out a hunting knife that made Nickie flick his eyes to the body's torso, recalling possible stab signs on the bones that could not be fully proved due to the state of the body. A big knife like this could have made those marks though.

"Guess Mary already told you too many secrets," the man added. "Guess I got to silence you too, boy."

So intent on the knife in the man's hand and the fear of impending death, Nickie froze as the man raised the knife and came towards him. The only things going through his mind was the knowledge that he was about to end up on his own autopsy table...and if Peter would miss him. When the knife jerked upwards still a few feet away, Nickie looked away from the knife and met Peter's eyes over the stranger's shoulder.

"Nickie! Run!"

Part of him wanted to obey that order and if the two struggling men had not barred his escape route then he might have done so. The difference of a few seconds was enough and Nickie grabbed the scalpel on the tray and struck out, slicing across the man's hand. He was rewarded by the sight of the hunting knife dropping to the floor, and Nickie quickly kicked it out of reach. Now it was just two unarmed men fighting, but Peter had Kwai Chang Caine's lessons in his favor and quickly subdued the man. Security guards poured into the room and grabbed the man, quickly obeying Peter's order to have the man arrested.

As the stranger was dragged away he yelled out, "She's no daughter of mine! She was a whore...like her mother. Damn whore!"

***

Peter stepped up close, hands wide. "You want to put that down now, Nickie?"

Nickie stared at his hand and dropped the scalpel like it had been superheated. It clanged when it hit the floor. Peter stepped up closer and pulled away the mask that hid half of Nickie's face, still holding wide and frightened blue eyes.

"You did good there, Nickie."

"I did?"

"Yeah. You did...but don't frighten me like that again." He grabbed both of Nickie's shoulders and shook him gently. "Next time I tell you to run...you run."

Nickie dropped his head until it fetched up on Peter's shoulder, and it seemed only natural to draw the man in closer still. He felt Nickie's arms snake around him, hugging him, and it felt too good to stop. Peter relaxed into the embrace, drawing back only when Nickie's hold began top loosen. He looked down at the slightly shorter man to offer some reassuring words just as Nickie turned his face and looked up...and their lips brushed. Neither of them drew back, quietly inhaling each breath exhaled by the other. Later he could blame it on an adrenaline high but at this moment all he wanted was a firmer touch of those lips against his, and all it took was the slightest movement. Nickie's eyes fluttered closed and instead of pushing Peter away, he melted into the kiss, opening up to Peter as his arms tightened their hold on him once more.

They broke apart in shock when someone cleared their throat behind them.

Kermit Griffin raised his eyebrows. "You might want to save the rest for later. Captain Simms is on her way down." Kermit walked over and gripped both of them by the shoulder, offering unspoken reassurance that he had no problem with what he had seen. "I'll delay her for a few minutes."

Peter could only nod back his thanks, turning to Nickie once Kermit had left. It took him forever to say the words.

"So... What do you say, Nickie? Is there something to save for later?"

Peter swallowed hard, only now realizing how much of his personal happiness was hanging on Nickie's reply. Nickie must have figured that out too because he smiled shyly, leaning in and kissing Peter slow and tenderly before pulling back.

"There's a lot more where that came from."

They moved apart as they heard Simms exchanging frustrated words with Kermit just beyond the doorway, but the pleasure in Nickie's blue eyes promised Peter that later could not come soon enough for either of them.

END


End file.
